Secret Jewel
by CharlieMistry
Summary: Mort Rainey set's all his affairs straight in Tashmore, then leaves. His new house is next to that of Opal Springs, a British author who's just as odd as he is... Please don't accuse it of being a Mary Sue. -.-' It will get better eventually.


Just a few tidbits you may need to know for this. It is a fanfiction of the film, But it's written in the style of the novella. Okay. :)

Disclaimers: Mort Rainey, Secret Window etc are © to Stephen King and some Movie guys. Johnny Depp's persistant sexiness is © to the Deppster himself. Opal Springs is © to me, Charlie Malfoy.

Morton Rainey's thoughts are in **Bold**.  
Opal Spring's thoughts are in _Italics_.

* * *

Morton Rainey had gotten rid of any evidence that he had ever killed anyone. Unless you could consider Corn as evidence. He went to his Orthodontist after a few months to get his braces removed. On the way to his front door after the dental operation he tripped up, hit his head on the porch entrance, smashed his glasses and fainted. He had managed to get himself up and back into the car for a trip to the Opticians to replace his rounded glasses for a pair of thick framed ones like his old pair. Now, with all his affairs straight, he left; There was nothing to stay for anyway; He'd already bought a new place elsewhere. 

Opal Springs was a quiet British author who lived in her Cottage next to a lake somewhere in America. Her cottage was not the only one at the lake, there was one other, but no one had lived there for some time. Opal, herself, was quite pale, with Light Blue eyes that were quite like Opals themselves. Her hair was toffee coloured and wavy as if it has once been permed. She was sitting on a swing couch on the Porch, holding a notebook and pen.  
"Erm... Oh, god." she exclaimed aloud. She was having trouble planning her latest novel, Secret Jewel. She didn't see herself as very talented at writing Romance novels; But her fans did so she had to write them. She couldn't figure out why her romance novels became popular, she had no experiance with Romance. Maybe one or two boyfriends in Secondary school and College, but nothing real.  
Ripping another page out of her notepad; She thought: _I'll keep that. Some obsessive weirdo will pay big for it on eBay in a couple of years._

An unfamiliar Car drove into the dusty courtyard.  
_Please don't be a crazy stalker._  
The car parked outside the empty house, then a Moving Truck tagged along behind. She watched on curiously. A man with dirty blonde messy hair and dark thick framed glasses got out of the car.  
Opal got up and walked up to him.  
"Excuse me, You're Mort Rainey? Aren't you?" she asked trying to sound casual.  
"Erm... Yeah, Hi!" he smiled nervously, shaking her hand.  
"I don't mean to sound like an obsessive fan but I love your novels!" she smiled.  
"Thanks." he nodded at her, "Have I met you before? I recognise your face..."  
"Oh, Maybe you've read one of my books? Although I doubt it. I only ever wrote one thriller, which didn't get a lot of recognition. It wasn't very good." she blushed.  
"It takes years to get good at writing that stuff." he pointed out. He huffed as he started lugging some boxes into the house.  
"Um... would you like to stop round for coffee?" she offered stupidly.  
He blinked at her. "Erm... Now isn't the time... But if you want you can help me bring in some of the stuff?"  
"Sure." she leant down to pick up one of the boxes, got up, then almost toppled over because of the weight.  
"Maybe you should leave that and help me with this." he sighed, helping her up.  
She nodded while blushing then took one end of the box Mort was carrying.

A short while later, they had all the boxes indoors and the Moving men were carrying Mort's beloved couch in.  
"Okay... there would be good... Actually no, Let's have it here!!!" he ordered hopping around the room. They grumbled and placed it down in front of him.  
"You can it down. I'll go find something to drink." he told Opal. She did so while he started routing around the boxes for drinks. "Can of Pepsi, alright?"  
"Sure. Thank you, Mort!" she smiled adjusting the cushions as he leant over and passed her a can of pepsi.  
Taking a pepsi for himself, he threw himself on the couch next to Opal.  
He blinked. "I just realized. Sorry, I left my manners at Tashmore! I never asked your name!" he smiled.  
"Opal. Opal Springs." she replied, taking delicate sips of pepsi.  
"Oh, You wrote... what was it... 'To make things worse'? Right?" he asked.  
"Yes, Have you read it?" she said, shocked.  
"Yeah. It's not too bad for your first thriller story."  
"Thank you!" she blushed. "You'd probably be sick if you read one of my romance novels. They're so fake."  
"I'm sure your boyfriend disagrees."  
She coughed nervously. "I don't have a boyfriend."  
_Silence. Fair enough when you're alone, But not when you're in the middle of a conversation. SAY SOMETHING._

"I read about your house and ex-wife. I'm really sorry." she started. _Yeah, Say the most positive thing that comes to mind._  
"What did you read about Amy?" he asked nervously.  
"Well, I read a rumour that..." she gulped. "You murdered her... I don't believe that though."  
"At least somebody believes in me." he groaned.  
"Hm..."   
_There's that awkward silence again. You should go. You've freaked him out.  
No I haven't. I haven't... we've just had an awkward conversation. Stop it.  
Stop what? You're telling yourself this.  
Okay, Just stop.  
Way to go when you're trying to attract him.  
I'm not trying to attract anyone!  
Ha. Ha. Ha.  
Please stop it and leave me alone!_  
"Are you okay?" Mort asked, noticing that Opal had a pained look on her face.  
"Yeah, I'm just tired... Maybe I should go home... I'm getting in the way anyway." she said nervously.  
"You're not really getting in the way. Infact, I'm glad that I've got some company. But... You do look kinda ill." he said.  
"Okay, Yeah... I'll go... bye!" she waved weakly as he led her to the door.  
"Goodbye!" Mort called back.  
**She's a Head case.  
Yeah, But so am I. I like her.  
Oh, Don't get too close, Morton.  
And why not?!?!  
The pair of you talking to each other and yourselves. I can't wait until the first dinner.  
I've had enough of you! I'm taking a nap, then I'm gonna go write some garbage.**  
He tugged at his hair, then found his old dressing gown, put it on, then threw himself on the couch.  
**You know that someone has to help the moving guys...**  
"Shut up!" he mumbled quietly.

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Please review. =3 Flamers will have water thrown at them. Hissssss.... 


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